


Of shining stars and visionaries

by mirawohoo (metawohoo)



Series: Like peafowls in a pod [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, young jerkdad and young mystery mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6501019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metawohoo/pseuds/mirawohoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel/Mrs. Agreste flashback drabbles, set in the same world as my "Dancing with the devil at the crossroads" fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of shining stars and visionaries

Audrey knew she was the most beautiful girl in Paris. There was no point being modest about it. She _felt_ like the most beautiful girl in Paris, with her face on the cover of every magazine or looking at her from every billboard. She made heads turn and hearts race. She saw it. She knew it. And, when she became the Peacock - the city's shining star, darting through the air on iridescent wings - she felt like the most beautiful girl in France.

Unless she listened to Gabriel Buttface Agreste.

Jerk.

"Not quite right," he would comment as he paced around Audrey and the poor stressed out makeup artist. "Her lips are too thin. Her face too puffy. No, not that color, she looks like she doesn't have eyelashes to begin with. And could we find some padding for that bra?"

It stung. Well, after a while. Gabriel was Gabriel. After four years of friendship, you just tuned him out. He was ever sooo pleasant. Still. Spending two hours being painted, shaded, twisted and turned and inspected and fixed tended to get your attention. You started to hear. Eventually, you started to listen.

"Some accent on the cheekbones, they need to be more marked." - _What about giving me some of yours, Gabriel? Your face is ninety-nine percent cheekbones._ \- "Did you gain weight? I could have sworn this fit last week. Is that a pimple?"

She did not feel like the most beautiful girl in Paris anymore. She did not feel beautiful. Actually, she felt distinctly unpretty.

He had given her dresses made of fallen skies, all stars and gradients and layers of magic twirling around her like clouds. They had made her face a galaxy in pinks and blues, with highlights of gold and dreams. They had made her a thing of beauty, ethereal, out of this world, but that was not enough, was it? Gabriel had a _vision._

Visionaries were overrated.

"Spin," he ordered after the makeup was done.

As soon as she did, he clicked his tongue and winced, mumbling about fixing the waistline. He joined her with needles and pins, slipping behind her back and pulling on the fabric of her dress. "Breathe out."

Audrey bit the inside of her cheeks. Her eyes were growing wet, which would not have pleased her in normal circumstances, but was even worse when she had keep the tears in, not to ruin masterwork painted on her skin. She could not even purse her lips, coated in gold as they were.

"Audrey!"

She whirled to him.

"Will you STOP?"

Everyone around them - the photographer, the makeup artist, the design assistant, _everyone_ \- went still. For a boy of twenty, Gabriel was terrifying. He scowled, staring at Audrey with exasperated surprise. His frown deepened when he noticed the look on her face.

" _Why_ are you _crying_ , for god's sake? It will ruin the make-"

The tears that had been threatening to spill on Audrey's face dried up. Rage took over..

"Gabriel, if you do not shut up RIGHT NOW, you'll model your collection yourself."

He breathed in, glaring at her. He was very good at glaring. The eyes gave him an unfair advantage. The sharp angles of his face added to the effect. If he had been given a choice between his looks and those of a model, she was fairly certain he would have changed nothing. His face fit him.

She crossed her arms and glared back.

"Now is really not the time for a tantrum," he drawled.

"Now is really not the time for a tantrum," she mouthed, shaking her head from side to side. She huffed. "I'm sick and tired of being told I am too fat and too this and too that and too ugly for your work! _Sick_ and _tired_. You make me feel like I'm..."

She stopped at that, kicking the floor with the tip of a naked, painted foot.

He rolled his eyes, sighing.

" _Really?_ All of this over _bruised feelings?_ Audrey, you are the most _beautiful_ woman I have met in my entire life, but this photo shoot. Requires. _Perfection._ "

She balled her fists, chewing the inside of her cheeks.

That was just Gabriel. And he meant every word of it, too. The 'most beautiful woman'. He had said it before, he would say it again, he meant it, from the bottom of his soul. But it would never have occurred to him to tell her that as a compliment. He would say it to every journalist who wanted to hear it, he would drop the words in casual conversation - you are perfect, just perfect - but it was only a fact. Water was wet. Fire was hot. Audrey Loisel was beautiful.

He was a tiring best friend to have.

And _of course_ the photo shoot had to be perfect. This collection would make or break his brand.

Audrey turned away and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Jerk, jerk, jerk, jerk, jerk," she mumbled as she walked away, stomping from hallway to hallway.

Gabriel caught up with her at the building's doors, right as she realized she was not going to make it very far on bare feet. He grabbed her arm and forced her to turn to him.

"Will you just-" he exclaimed, going silent when he noticed he was destroying the nebula painted on her arm.

He let go of her.

She slipped past anger and into tiredness, eyes stinging with tears again.

"Audrey, I just…" Gabriel said, his voice softer (not soft, though, that was not in his range).

If she had tried to answer, she would have broken down, so she merely glared. His expression flickered between concern and irritation, before shifting to guilt. Then he leaned down and kissed her, pressing his lips to the golden painted, glimmering work of art that were hers. He paid no mind to how it smeared her lipstick - an eternity of work at least, refined and redrawn over and over again - and to how it ruined all chances of holding a photo shoot that day. His hand cupped her face. His thumb wiped the pink galaxy off her cheekbone, the golden stars off her skin.

She kissed him back.

The words she had heard the most in her life were 'you know Gabriel loves, you, right?'. It was such an easy idea for people to suggest, and such a hard notion to agree with. It was not that Audrey had not wanted to see it, just that she _knew_ him. Gabriel did not know how to _love_ , and it was such a painful, heartbreaking thing to be the target of his affection.

Of course, he loved her, but did they have to throw _love_ into the mix? They could be best friends and partners. Of course, she loved him, but weren't they both fine laughing about it when people asked?

She had not thought he could learn tenderness. He was terrible at faking it.

He was better at _showing_ it than she had expected.

He broke the kiss to catch his breath and Audrey had to catch _hers_ when she saw the golden paint on his mouth, the cobalt blue stains on his nose and cheekbones, the powdery shades of pink on his fingers.

She chuckled and swiped her face, collecting some violet makeup and poking the tip of his nose. He rolled his eyes again. She could nearly _hear_ the 'very mature, Audrey’. Then he crushed his lips to hers and lifted her off the ground.

They ruined the dress too.


End file.
